


Sidney's Last Interview

by EdwardHyde10



Category: Sidneyverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardHyde10/pseuds/EdwardHyde10
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Sidney’s Last Interview  
By  
Edward Hyde

“What on Earth are you watching?” Rob chuckled as he settled into his arm-chair, seeing his eight year old daughter laying on her tummy in front of the TV, her night-shirt scrunched so that it rode up just past the crest of her bare bottom, her eyes glued to the screen where two naked girls no older then ten were dangling over a pool of some sort, gripping a metal bar to keep themselves from falling while other, clothed children reached out with feather dusters, tickling them and trying to make them lose their grip.

Flicking his eyes to the corner of the screen, Rob recognised the “SEN” logo and understood. Sidney’s Entertainment Network was a handful of channels affiliated to the famous restaurant chain and featuring a mixture of cooking programs, documentaries and snuff-shows. Becky seemed to be watching the channel aimed at children and teenagers which was generally a mixture of typical magazine programs, cartoons and game-shows with a low survival rate! Since the bundle of channels had been added with their last cable package upgrade, young Becky had become quite addicted. 

“Oh it’s so cool, Daddy!” she enthused as Rob leaned forward to pull her night-shirt down a little, warning her about catching cold despite the warmth of the room. “That tank is full of piranhas and whoever falls in first gets gobbled up! The people with the ticklers are from the other team, trying to make their opponents’ champion lose!” 

“I see!” chuckled Rob. Suddenly there was a cheer for the studio audience and a loud splash as the cute blonde representing the red team fell to her doom and was immediately set upon by the shoal of starving carnivorous fish. The water tuned red and bubbled furiously as the survivor and blue team’s champion carefully edged her way back along the pole to the safety for the platform to be congratulated by her team-mates. “So what do they win?”

“Well the blue team go through to the semi-final,” Becky explained, “but their champion gets cooked now for their victor celebration!”

“Interesting!” Rob laughed. “And what about the losing team? They get chucked in the incinerator or something?” Becky rolled her eyes at him. 

“No, duh! They just go home hungry!” 

“Fair enough!” He shook his head in amusement as the credits started to roll over footage of the blue champion being locked into a roasting frame and set to cook over artificial coals like the ones used under the spits in the public cooking area of most Sidney’s restaurants. 

“Coming up next,” the continuity announcer proclaimed as the credits were squashed to one side of the screen, “a classic from the archives. First shown on PBS on the nineteenth of August, twenty twenty two, Sidney Roebuck’s final interview. Stay tuned!” The other half of the screen was filled with a picture of a naked, blonde girl posing in a pink bedazzled cowboy hat. 

“Wait!” Becky looked shocked and turned to her dad, an accusing look on her face as if he had been intentionally withholding important information from her. “She was real?”

“Um… yeah?” Rob was confused. “Why? What did you think?”

“I dunno, I kinda assumed she was, you know, just a mascot kind of thing, like the Colonel or Ronald McDonald!” 

“Pretty sure Colonel Sanders was a real guy.” Rob mused. “Not Ronald McDonald ‘though, at least I hope not!” he chuckled. “But no, Sidney Roebuck was a real girl. The first to ever be legally killed for her meat and eaten.”

“What?” Becky exclaimed again. “You mean...” she did a quick mental calculation, “like, three hundred years ago people didn’t eat girls?”

“Nope!” confirmed her dad. “And you’d go to prison if you tried!”

“Wow!” Becky shook her head in disbelief. “That’s really dumb!”

“Did you not learn this in school?” Rob frowned a little. 

“Nah,” Becky stood up and stretched, her night-shirt riding up as she raised her arms, giving a brief glimpse of her smooth, puffy little vulva. “Twenty first century is next year. We’re doing Victorians at the moment.”

“And your teacher never mentioned that they didn’t eat girls back then?” 

“Nah, it never really came up.” Becky shrugged. “I’m gonna go grab a Coke which the adverts are on. Want a beer?” 

“Sure!” Rob called after his young daughter as she scurried off into the kitchen. Mornings like this were nice, he thought. A relaxing bit of father-daughter time. Becky returned a few moments later with two cans and a bowl of popcorn and plonked herself down on his lap. 

“Wanna watch with me?” She asked him, sweetly as if he had much choice in the matter. 

“Good idea!” Rob chuckled. “I think I’ve seen this before but ages ago and it would be good for you to learn about this stuff!” The ad break finished with the Sidney’s Entertainment Network logo and the announcer reminded the viewer that what they were about to see was a three hundred year old archive broadcast, filmed in the highest definition technically available at the time and that the playback quality reflected its vintage nature. Becky got comfortable on her dad’s lap and Rob sipped his cold beer as the PBS logo filled the screen and upbeat music began to play. 

The camera panned around an enthusiastic studio audience then settled on the small stage on which were set a comfortable chair and a matching sofa for guests with a small table with a vase of flowers, box of tissues and two glasses of water set on it. Sat in the chair was a middle-aged woman in a smart trouser-suit with a discrete string of pearls, her brown hair cut short but stylish with her gold-rimmed glasses on a chain around her neck which was as decorative as it was functional.

Occupying the sofa opposite, in stark contrast to the conservative-looking host, was a young girl with a mane of golden hair, a dazzling smile and pageant-queen makeup with not a stitch of clothing on apart from her pink, bedazzled cowboy boots and matching Stetson, the word “Yummy” etched into a silver plate on the front among the rhinestones and other decoration. 

There could be no doubt who this girl was! Rob had seen so many pictures, videos and other representations of her in the past that he knew instantly that this was Sidney Roebuck, the young visionary who had campaigned for her own, and by extension every other girl in the world’s right to be eaten if they decided that was what they wanted! Although, Rob reflected, it felt a little bit strange seeing her as a real, flesh-and-blood girl. Like most people, he had become used to the slightly stylised holographic avatar which greeted guests at the entrance of most Sidney’s restaurants and featured in most of their advertisements and posters. Although the “mascot” Sidney got updated every decade or so as new designers were brought in and new rendering technology became available, but always following the same basic design, very clearly based on the very real young girl sitting cross-legged in the TV studio on the screen. 

“Welcome!” the host smiled toward the camera and, by extension, the viewers beyond. “And thank you for joining me for this very special episode where I am speaking to a girl I’m sure you’ve all heard a lot about lately, Sidney Roebuck!” The studio audience clapped and there were even a couple of whoops which Sidney acknowledged with a smile and a wave, even blowing a few kisses and clearly quite accustomed to being in the lime-light. 

“Sidney, than you for being here,” the host smiled at the girl, “and of course I must start by wishing you Happy Birthday! Your birthday is today, I understand?” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” Sidney beamed, her Texas accent obvious. “Twelve years old today and I’ve been given the best birthday present I could have asked for!”

“That’s right,” the woman smiled, leaning forward a little, “you’ve been campaigning for four years now, I believe, for the right to be eaten and yesterday the relevant legal exemptions were passed and expected to be signed into law permanently by the end of the month, meaning that this afternoon, you get your wish!” 

“It sure is!” Sidney agreed enthusiastically, “three o’clock this afternoon my pretty little throat’s getting cut then my blood will be drained and my meat parted out.” The youngster positively glowed as she said this, looking as happy as if she had won an all expenses paid trip to Disneyland rather than describing, essentially, her own scheduled execution.

“I should probably explain to the viewers,” the presenter, who if the logo on the big screen behind the pair was anything to go by was named Wendy, turned to speak directly to the camera again, “we’re recording this on the fifteenth but you’re watching on the sixteenth.”

“And then some!” Becky commented with a giggle, pondering the fact that both the people she was watching were long dead, even if it was only the death of one of them that was being discussed. Rob chuckled and reached around her to help himself to a handful of popcorn. 

“So by the time you watch this,” Wendy continued, “everything we’re talking about will have happened already.”

“That’s right!” Sidney interjected with a tinkly giggle. “By the time you watch this I’ll be nothing but leftovers and poop!” The straight-laced host couldn’t keep herself from chuckling at this comment – both at the words themselves but also at the charming way Sidney seemed to consider the whole matter a fun game or prank. 

“So before we get into the details of what’s happening this afternoon,” Wendy leaned back and crossed her legs, mirroring Sidney’s pose, “why don’t you tell us a little about yourself? I understand you’re from right here in Dallas?” 

“Sure am, Ma’am!” Sidney flashed her perfect smile and tapped the brim of her hat. “Dallas, Texas born and raised! My Daddy is Orin Roebuck, perhaps you’ve heard of him?” The twinkle in her eye made it clear that this was a joke but Wendy apparently felt the need to clarify for the audience.

“Orin Roebuck, born in nineteen seventy one,” she explained, “eldest son of oil tycoon Franklin Roebuck, is listed as number three on the Forbes list of richest men in America and is majority shareholder and CEO of Roebuck inc. Worldwide which, under its various subsidiaries, has interests in industries from heavy goods manufacturing to hospitality and leisure.” 

At this point a subtitle appeared on the screen explaining that Roebuck inc. had been renamed Sidney’s inc. in 2088 and was currently the second largest business conglomerate in the world behind the software and technology company AppleSoft. 

“That’s him!” Sidney beamed proudly, “And it’s thanks to him that I’ve been able to get my wish. He’s been my absolute rock and supported me throughout my campaign. I never could have done it without my Daddy backing me all the way!”

“Was it difficult to persuade him to support you in such an… unconventional enterprise?” Wendy asked. “Most daddies are very protective of their little girls yet yours has, without wishing to be insensitive about it, assisted your campaign to be allowed to be killed! Doesn’t that strike you as a little unusual?”

“Oh come on!” Sidney gave her appealing, tinkling giggle again. “Do you know any daddies who can resist giving their little girl everything she wants?” She twisted her hands together demurely and made a show of fluttering her eye-lashes at the clearly-amused host. “My Daddy’s no different! It just happens that instead of a pony or a new dolly, I wanted to be chopped up, cooked and eaten!”

“Well I can’t argue with that!” the host chuckled, shaking her head a little in much the same way Rob did at some of the comments his eight year old daughter came out with. 

“After all,” Sidney wriggled in her seat and smiled knowingly, “I’m not only his youngest baby but his only girl too!” She held up her left hand with her pinky finger extended. “I’ve had him wrapped around my little finger since the day I was born!”

“If you don’t mind me saying so,” Wendy replied after the indulgent laughter from the studio audience had died down, “you certainly know how to use your natural charms! After all, you’ve effectively flirted your way into changing one of the most fundamental laws not only of our country but of society in general, overturning a centuries-old taboo! So tell me,” she leaned forward a little conspiratorially, “have you always been a girly-girl?” 

“Oh heck no!” Sidney practically bellowed with laughter at this question, leaning back in her seat and slapping her own knee in amusement. “I grew up with three big brothers! I can wrestle any boy and hit a baseball as well as anyone, and don’t mess with me if I got a hockey stick in my hands! Built my own bike when I was nine and could fix up a busted engine in the time it took the mechanic to drink a cup of coffee!” she bragged. “Us Texas girls grow up tough and resourceful, even ones with rich daddies!” 

“Oh but your look that you’re so famous for is very feminine.” Wendy pointed out. “In fact I’ve heard you likened to a young Dolly Parton!” 

“Well she’s swell so I’ll take that as a compliment!” Sidney giggled again. “But what’s your point? A girl can’t be tough and pretty at the same time?” Wendy looked a little uncomfortable at this, clearly realising that she was guilty of perpetuating old-fashioned gender stereotypes. Sidney glared at the host as she squirmed in her chair but then broke into a broad grin with more of her enchanting giggling. “I’m just messin’ with you!” she admitted to the older woman’s visible relief. 

“But seriously, I guess there’s no harm in telling the world now since I won’t be around any more by the time this goes out! The ‘Sidney Look’,” she made air-quotes with her fingers, “the hat, the boots, the makeup and such, it’s kinda my uniform! When my Daddy first agreed to fund my campaign a bunch of PR folk and publicists came around to see me and, over maybe three days, we came up with this look and I’ve stuck with it ever since!” 

“A look where you go around in public naked, showing off your body?” Wendy prompted.

“Well it sure as heck saves on laundry!” the unashamed young blonde laughed. 

“A lot of girls would feel self-conscious about exposing themselves in this way,” the host pointed out, “especially around your age when your body is starting to develop. If you don’t mind me saying,” she smiled, “you have a lovely figure that I’m sure a lot of girls and women in the audience envy but there’s also a lot of folks out there who consider the start of puberty an awkward phase, physically, that they look forward to coming out the other side of.”

“I’ve been photographed in the buff since I was eight years old!” Sidney reminded her. “I honestly barely think about it any more, it’s just part of the uniform! Kinda,” she paused for a moment to collect her thoughts and find the right words, “like I’m wearing a naked girl costume!” 

“I see.” Wendy nodded understandingly. 

“Maybe I was kinda shy at first but I got over that pretty quick!” laughed the famous youngster. “After all, it would be pretty hard to convince people they want to eat me if I’m not willing to show off the meat, huh?” There was more laughter and even a wolf-whistle from the audience. “But honestly it’s nice to be able to look back and see how my body has been changing and developing. I think more girls should do it, whether they’re wanting to follow in my footsteps or not.” She turned to the camera as if addressing all the girls watching, including Becky. “I urge you to do that! Get your Mom or Daddy to take a picture of you in your birthday suit once a week, in the same place if you can, then when you’re all grown up you’ll be able to look back and see how you changed. It’s really a beautiful thing!” 

“Can we do that, Daddy?” Becky turned around in Rob’s lap and looked at him pleadingly, her brown eyes wide. “I’d love that!”

“Sure thing, honey!” he smiled at her. “Maybe by the tree in the back yard, then we can see the changing seasons too?”

“I love you, Daddy!” Becky flung her arms around Rob’s neck and kissed him noisily on the cheek before wriggling back around to face the TV, eager not to miss any of the interview. 

“You’ve mentioned a few times now,” Wendy proceeded with her questions, “how the look we’re all familiar with and associate with you is, in your eyes, a uniform. An image thought up by publicists. So how much of it would you say is the real you?”

“Oh well I just love the hats and boots!” Sidney grinned, “In fact, at that first meeting I was wearing my old brown leather cowboy boots and my Grand-Pappy’s hat. That’s where they got their first ideas for the ‘Sidney Look’.” Again she made the air quotes. 

“But I assume your grandfather’s hat didn’t have rhinestones or any other bedazzling?” Wendy asked with a soft chuckle.

“Oh heck no!” Sidney through back her head, tossing her blonde curls and laughing again. “Although maybe he should have tried that! I’m sure he’d have looked mighty pretty! Nah, between you and me,” she turned and winked conspiratorially at the camera, acknowledging that she was in fact drawing several billion people into her intimate confidence, “when there’s no cameras around, I’m more of a tom-boy. I like my sports jerseys and jeans. You’re more likely to catch me in a lumberjack shirt of dungarees than in a dress!”

“So if I met you out and about on a normal day, I might not actually recognise you?” Wendy sounded genuinely intrigued. 

“No, Ma’am!” Sidney shot the host her perfect, charming smile again. “Hardly anyone ever does and that’s actually been great for me. Don’t get me wrong,” she leaned forward earnestly, “I love being famous, wouldn’t be able to do what I’ve done if I didn’t, but it’s nice to be able to, you know, switch it off sometimes?” She looked questioningly at Wendy as if pleading for verification. “Like, I know you love your job but wouldn’t you like to be able to go to the movies or for a coffee with your friends without people coming up to you and asking ‘Aren’t you Wendy Miller?’”

“Well I always love meeting my fans,” Wendy replied diplomatically, turning and smiling at the camera, “but I understand what you mean. It’s nice to just be able to be yourself sometimes, without feeling you have to be ‘on’. I imagine it’s so even more at your age?” 

“Well it worked for Hannah Montana didn’t it?” Sidney chuckled. “In fact, since I got nothing to lose today, I’ve brought in a few private photos to share with your viewers. I think you’ve got them ready to show?” 

The “Wendy” logo one the screen behind them melted away to be replaced by a picture of a young girl in a baggy t-shirt and jeans, topped with an off-white felt Stetson which cast a slight shadow over her face. As the pair on the stage turned to look at the screen, picture of the studio was replaced by the photo they were looking at so the viewer could get a good look. 

Since he knew who the girl in the picture was, Rob could recognise her as Sidney but it was a very different Sidney from the one he was familiar with. She was not wearing any makeup and her Hollywood style “big hair” was replaced with a simple, fairly straight pony tail, her pretty figure concealed under the boyish clothes. 

The picture changed now to one of Sidney sitting on a swing wearing a pair of dungaree overalls with no shirt beneath and bare feet, enjoying the Summer sunshine but looking far more like a farm-hand than a model. The third and final photo showed Sidney with her brothers outside a hockey arena, all dressed in jerseys of the local team, their arms around each other’s shoulders and clearly ready to cheer on their favourites.

“That’s definitely not a look that most people would associate with you!” Wendy observed with admiration. “That’s really quite an achievement, to be possibly the most famous girl in America if not the whole world but also be able to enjoy your life incognito!” Sidney did not say anything in reply but smiled happily, discretely switching which leg was crossed over the other and interlacing her fingers on her knee. 

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Wendy smiled as Sidney reached for one of the glasses on the table and took a sip of water. “I’d like to talk about your campaign and how it all got started. Would you like to tell us a little about that?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Sure thing!” Sidney beamed. “Well, it all started when I was eight years old and it was one of those long mornings in the winter time when Christmas is over but it’s not nice enough to play outside yet. There wasn’t even any snow to go sledging in, just the miserable kind of cold.” Sidney’s eyes took on a dreamy, far-away look as she recalled the life-changing event. Must have been a Saturday I think as I wasn’t at school and on a Sunday we’d have been at Church but I remember feeling bored and I didn’t feel like playing video games so I went into my Daddy’s library to look for something to read.”

“Now,” she continued almost as if delivering a lesson to a class of smaller children, “he has most every book you could think of in there from leather-bound classics to paperback spy novels he picks up at the airport when he’s going travelling. I don’t think my Daddy has ever thrown out a book in his life! He even has these huge folders with every issue of some of the big weekly newspapers, going back fifty years or more ‘though I’ve no idea why! Anyway, there’s this one shelf full of little paperbacks with collections of old newspaper cartoons from way back when my Grand-Pappy was a kid.”

“Any we might have heard of?” Wendy asked with a smile, enjoying the enthusiasm with which Sidney recounted her story. 

“Well there’s loads of Peanuts,” Sidney grinned, “you know, with Snoopy and Charlie Brown?” Wendy nodded. “And some English ones about a grumpy old guy in a flat cap, oh and some really funny ones about cavemen called BC. But anyway,” she picked up a slim, very dog-eared and well-thumbed paperback from the sofa beside her, the cheaply-produced pages aged almost as yellow as the cover, “I found this one in amongst all the others and it looked a bit different so I figured I’d give it a go.” 

The camera zoomed in and showed the coloured illustration of the front of the book which was entitled “Clowns Taste Funny – A Delicious Treasury of Cannibal Jokes”. The picture was a crudely colourised line drawing of a busty blonde women in an explorer’s hat sitting in a big stew-pot while one fat “savage” in a grass-skirt with a bone through his nose chopped a carrot into the pot and another tasted the broth daintily from an over-sized spoon.

“Anyway,” Sidney continued happily, “I went and changed into my swimsuit then took the book out to the pool-house where I like to go relax. Since it was such a cold day, even with the heating on, you know those sorts of days?” she asked Wendy, “Where the cold just seems to sneak in everywhere and no matter how high you turn up the heating or how many sweaters you put on, you’re still chilly?”

“Oh yes!” the host agreed, nodding.

“Well on days like that, the only thing that makes me feel cosy warm again is the hot tub so I took this book and slipped in there, bubbles turned up to max of course!” She flashed her charming grin again, her Hollywood-white teeth glinting in the bright studio lights. “Well let me tell you,” she took a deep breath and exhaled dramatically, “this book is NOT meant for kids and I’m sure my Daddy would never have let me read it if he’d seen me looking at it in his library. The jokes are really funny,” she explained, “but a lot of them are quite rude too. But it wasn’t really the words that got to me in the end.”

“Oh?” prompted Wendy, “What was it in this book that had such a life-changing effect on you?” 

“The pictures!” Sidney beamed, leafing through the worn paperback and chuckling fondly at the memory of the first time she say it. “There’s loads of cartoons in here of naked ladies with big boobs either getting cooked or about to be. May I show some?” She looked earnestly at the host. “I don’t know what your rules are about that sort of thing?”

“I’m sure it will be fine!” Wendy chuckled, presumably amused as Rob was at the idea that a twelve year old girl sitting stark naked and discussing her imminent butchering worrying about offending the audience by showing old newspaper cartoon caricatures of nude women. 

Looking pleased to be granted permission, Sidney turned the book around and the camera zoomed in on a drawing of an implausibly busty young woman impaled on a spit over a camp fire, her huge round boobs dangling down while one savage reminded another to prick them so they didn’t burst. Apparently satisfied that the audience had got a good look at that picture, Sidney began to flick through again then turned the book back to the camera showing another extremely well-endowed young woman squashed into a pot and looking very uncomfortable while the grass-skirt wearing chef reassured her:

“Don’t worry – they’ll shrink during cooking!”

“The more of these I looked at,” Sidney set the book down beside her on the sofa, “the more I began to imagine myself as one of the women in the pictures then I started to pretend the hot tub was a big cannibal pot and I was being cooked for dinner.” She bit her lip and blushed a little. “I even took my swimsuit off to make it more realistic.” 

While the somewhat raunchy cartoons were being shown, Rob had noticed Becky squirming a little on his lap. She could simply have been adjusting to get comfortable and to stop her legs going to sleep but he was fairly sure there was something more deliberate about it. 

“Why would she wear a swimsuit in her home pool?” the eight year old asked, genuinely confused. “That seems kinda silly.”

“Things were different back then,” Rob explained, stroking her hair, “and girls were a lot more shy about people seeing them naked, even in their families sometimes.” 

“But wouldn’t her daddy and brothers have seen her naked when they had sex anyway?” Becky turned to look at home, frowning. “Or did they wear swimsuits for that too back then?” She stuck out her tongue.

“Actually, most families didn’t have sex with each other back then.” Rob explained. “Pretty much none at all. In fact it was against the law!”

“What?!” Becky sounded even more shocked then she had to learn there was a time when eating girls like her wasn’t a normal part of everyday life. “So who were kids supposed to have sex with when they needed it? Did they have to wait until they went to school? What if they wanted sex at the weekend?”

“Well as far as I know, kids weren’t allowed to have sex at all.” Rob shrugged. “Nobody was supposed to until they were in their late teens.”

“That’s seriously unfair!” Becky looked scandalised. “People in the past were really dumb!” She turned back to face the TV a little huffily and folded her arms but continued to wiggle, fussing with the bottom of her night-shirt as if it was uncomfortable but pulling it up so her bare bottom was in direct contact with Rob’s thin slacks. 

“He did take some persuading, that’s for sure!” Sidney replied in response to a question Rob had missed due to his conversation with his daughter. “But once he saw how determined I was and that it was really what I wanted, he agreed to back me all the way.”

“Now, if I may ask,” Wendy leaned in and spoke gently to the young girl, “I know your mother is no longer with us but what do you think she’d say to you if she was here now?” 

“Well,” Sidney sat back in her seat and pondered the question a little while a picture of her famous actress mother, Dorothy Mansfield-Roebuck, filled the screen behind them, “I was only two when she died so I never really knew her. I just remember she liked to sing and she smiled a lot. Daddy talks about her a lot, though, and I’ve seen all her movies. I know she wanted to be a movie-star right from when she was very little and she chased that dream her whole life until it came true so, I guess if she could speak to me now, I like to think that she would have told me that if being eaten is my dream, I should put all my effort into making it happen and she’d be so proud that I made it happen.”

“Oh so she didn’t have a mummy either?” Becky leaned her head on Rob’s shoulder. “We’re the same! Oh don’t be sad, Daddy!” she reached up and kissed him on the cheek as he stroked her hair, “you’re the best Daddy in the world!” She took his hand and pushed it up under her night-shirt, letting it rest on her warm tummy, the shirt hitched up leaving her smooth, plump girlhood on display. 

“So, we know you campaign was a success,” Wendy grinned at the happy girl, “and in a few hours you’re going to be butchered. But I’m curious about what happens after that? I understand you’ve had a hand in choosing what happens to your meat and how it will be prepared? Perhaps you could tell us a little more about that?” 

“I’d be happy to, Wendy!” Sidney beamed radiantly. Becky snuggled a little closer into Rob and took his other hand, placing it near the top of her left leg. Rob couldn’t help chuckling a little at his not-so-discrete young daughter’s way of letting him know what she wanted. 

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, as soon as I heard that my wish was going to come true,” Sidney interlaced her fingers on her knee again and smiled sweetly at the host, launching into her account with happy confidence, my team sent out a call to all the best-known chefs around the world inviting them to participate in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” She flashed her dazzling smile again. “The chance to among the first in modern history to prepare legally slaughtered girl-meat!” 

“Well, as you can imagine,” she continued confidently with a proud smile, “there was quite the response! My campaign has drawn quite a lot of attention lately!” She giggled then bit her lip appealingly. “We had anyone who wanted to prepare some of me send in their proposals and I narrowed it down to fifteen and I’ve been meeting with them over the last couple of weeks to decide how they’re going to prepare their allocation of my meat.”

“Fifteen?” Wendy furrowed her brow a little. “That sounds like a lot!”

“There’s more meat on a girl than you might think!” Sidney giggled, “Even a fairly little one like me! And besides, think of meals you have at fancy restaurants, how much actual meat is there in each dish?”

“Well that’s true I suppose.” Wendy nodded thoughtfully. “Are you able to give us any names?”

“Well some want to stay anonymous...” Sidney rolled her eyes. “They’re worried there’s going to be some kind of backlash against the idea of cannibalism, since it’s always been so taboo, and they’re worried about their reputations. There’s some who are going to be interviewed about it later so I’m sure they won’t mind me telling you. It will be public knowledge by the time this goes out anyway.”

“Please go ahead!” Wendy urged. 

“Well there’s Gordon Ramsey,” Sidney divulged, tapping her fingers as she listed each name as if counting them off, “Ken Hom, he’s really sweet! Then there’s Nigella Lawson, Heston Blumenthal, Guy Fieri and, um, oh yeah! Bobby Flay!”

“That’s quite a list!” Wendy gave an impressed nod. “And that’s less than half! Is it safe to assume the rest of are similar standard?”

“Oh for sure!” enthused Sidney. “And better! There’s loads of Michelin starred chefs and famous restaurateurs. My body’s going to be in great hands!”

“I’ve never heard of any of those.” Becky snorted dismissively. “You’re going to cook my yourself, right Daddy?”

“Um,” Rob felt flustered for a moment and ceased rubbing his daughter’s inner thigh, “I didn’t think we’d talked about harvesting you at all?”

“I guess not,” Becky shrugged, “but I figured it would happen. That’s what girls are for, right?” She turned and grinned cheekily at him. “Among other things of course!”

“Well,” Rob answered carefully. “Some girls do get eaten, many in fact, but not all by any means! Think of your women teachers and the ladies in the shop, and your friends’ mums and, well, even the Prime Minister and the President of the United States!”

“I know!” Becky sighed, trying not to feel annoyed at her dad, “But I want you to eat me! Will you, Daddy? Please say you’ll eat me?” 

“Well, I suppose…” Rob stammered a little, feeling very much on the spot. “I suppose we can think about...”

“When I’m twelve!” Becky declared, as if the matter was settled. “Like Sidney! Promise me you’ll cook me on my twelfth birthday?” Rob gave a sigh of relief. His daughter had not long turned eight so there were nearly four years until her deadline and a lot could happen in four years.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “it’s a deal! If you still want to be cooked by your twelfth birthday and you’ve not already been eaten at Brownie camp or in school or as part of some charity drive by then, I’ll cook you!”

“Thanks Daddy!” she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You’re the best!” Rob expected she would turn back and continue watching the interview where Sidney was now explaining who was actually going to be eating her. From what he could tell, it was her immediate family as well as several invited celebrities and politicians – what was sometimes rather sarcastically referred to as “the great and the good”, but instead she stretched out her arms and gave a dramatic sigh.

“Phew!” she exclaimed, fanning herself with her hand on which the scuffed remnants of sparkly green nail polish were still visible, “It’s REALLY hot in here, isn’t it?” With no further warning, she peeled off her night-shirt and, now stark naked, leant back into his lap, grabbing his hands and arranging them to her satisfaction once more. “There!” She gave a little hum of contentment, “Much better!” 

As casually as he could, Rob slipped the hand on her tummy a little lower, his hooked fingers finding her little slit which, it came as no surprise at all to him, was distinctly moist. Becky gave a soft moan as her Daddy’s experienced fingers pleasured her, his other hand on her flat but sensitive chest. 

“Sidney Roebuck, thank you so much for spending this time with us today, especially as it is your last. It’s been a real pleasure talking to you!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Ma’am!” Sidney grinned and touched the brim of her hat politely. 

“Well all that remains to be said I suppose is, well, good luck!” the host exclaimed. “Ladies and gentlemen, Sidney Roebuck!” The studio audience burst into wild applause as Sidney stood up to take a bow then shared a hug with Wendy as the theme music played and the credits rolled in front of them. 

“Coming up next,” the enthusiastic voice announced as the credits were squashed to one half of the screen, “a repeat of a live broadcast from the fifteenth of August two thousand and twenty two, first broadcast on NBC. That’s ‘Sidney Roebuck – The Final Hour’, coming up next on SEN-Junior!”

“Ooh Daddy!” Becky turned around in his lap, her eyes sparkling, “We HAVE to watch that! But the adverts are sooooo boring! Do you think we can find something else to do while they’re on?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Rob kissed her deeply, his hands running down her back to her shapely, eight year old rump, “or something will… come up!”

To be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Two toy commercials and a trailer for an upcoming movie were the backdrop to Becky and Rob’s passion as the two intimately familiar bodies interlocked, their tongues entwining and the naked little girl impaling herself over and over on her daddy’s throbbing erection. 

If either had been interested in looking at the screen, they’d have seen two excited little girls playing with and extolling the virtues of “Roast-Me Barbie” - a doll that could be spitted and made of plastic that would change from its usual colour to golden brown when exposed to steam generated by the transparent red plastic fire she came with. This doll was high on Becky’s Christmas list and Rob had spent far more time than he cared to think about having all its features explained in detail including, but not limited to, the fact that her limbs could be removed and parted with “realistic meat-detailing” then fitted back together magnetically. 

It had been amusing enough when she had begged for “Slave Barbie” for her birthday – an anatomically correct doll, as most now were, that came naked apart from a set of chains that fitted with shackles around her neck and wrists. The big novelty of this particular doll was that she came with a matching set in purple plastic, the Barbie logo embossed on the collar and cuffs, for the dolls owner to wear. At first the toy had struck Rob as a little expensive for what it was but he soon came to think of it as money well spent once Becky took to wearing the chains and nothing else while doing her household chores and helping him with the cleaning. He had even once, on holiday, allowed her to wear them to the supermarket although he had insisted she put bikini bottoms on at least for the outing, much to her irritation. 

The movie being advertised was Disney’s latest offering about a twelve year old meat-girl who is on her way to be delivered to a family when the van she is being transported in over-turns and she finds herself lost in the middle of nowhere. The movie, it would seem, followed her heart-warming adventure as, along with a wild turkey, pig and pheasant, she tries to find her way to the family who ordered her so they can all be eaten as part of a big feast celebrating some important family event or other. 

“And now,” the voice of the announcer cut into Rob’s attention just as his young daughter reached her climax, her tight little cunt squeezing his hard, thick manhood and her nails digging into his back under his open shirt, “first broadcast live on NBC on the fifteenth of August, twenty twenty-two, Sidney Roebuck. The Final Hour”. 

“Fuck, that was good!” Becky sighed contentedly, her manners escaping her for the moment as they had a habit of doing when she was in a state of high arousal, leading to Rob describing her more than once as his horny little potty-mouth. “Thank you, Daddy!” She kissed him lovingly on the lips and stroked his hair while he caressed her back and rump, “I really needed that! On but...” she looked down a little guiltily at his still-throbbing erection. “You didn’t…?” 

“No, but don’t worry!” he kissed her on the cheek. “I don’t need to every time!” 

“Oh no, Daddy! That’s not fair!” Becky declared firmly. “I want to watch this but I’m going to help you too, okay?” 

“Whatever you say, poppet!” Rob chuckled, knowing better than to argue with his young daughter. The still-naked eight year old shifted herself around to face the TV but only sat on Rob’s right leg now, leaning back against him and nestling in the crook of his arm. With her left hand she took hold of his erection and began to pump almost absent-mindedly as the documentary rerun began. Having a soft, warm little hand rubbing his manhood was more than a little distracting but Rob was also rather interested in the documentary. He remembered seeing the interview before, although many many years earlier, and he was sure he had seen photos and little snippets of footage of Sidney arriving and going to the slaughter room but he was sure he had never seen this hour-long special before and was quite intrigued! 

“You join me this afternoon outside the Roebuck Grande Hotel in Dallas, Texas, for a truly historic occasion.” The big-haired reported in a linen trouser suit and a little too much makeup spoke into the camera, a microphone with the NBC logo in her hand. “It is very rare in any lifetime that we get to witness a genuine change of era, an event which will leave our country and, indeed, the whole world permanently changed but I feel it really is no exaggeration to say that is what we are a part of here today!”

The camera panned around and showed the plaza outside the hotel packed with people, many of whom were holding placards. In one corner, pressed against the temporary barrier rails blocking the steps around the front entrance was a group of maybe fifty people loudly protesting the “abomination” that was to take place there, holding up signs with Bible verses on them, slogans about the sanctity of human life or about the wrongness of eating meat in general. This small group of dissenters were more than drowned out by the many hundreds of supportive well-wishers. Very noticeable among them were the many naked girls of all ages, several of whom were wearing cheap approximations of Sidney’s trademark hat.

“Today,” the presenter continued, “in this very building, twelve year old Sidney Roebuck will become the first girl in modern history to be legally slaughtered, butchered, cooked and eaten. I’ll be keeping you up to date with what’s going on out here and Mike is inside with the party waiting to greet the star of today’s momentous proceedings. Mike?” 

The shot changed to the lavish lobby of the hotel, bedecked with red velvet, dark wood panelling and gold decorations. A smartly-dressed line of people were inside, looking as if they were expecting a visit from the President or one of the British Royal Family. But it was no politician or monarch they were waiting to welcome, it was Sidney!

“Thanks, June!” The handsome male reporter spoke into his own microphone. I’m here waiting with Sidney’s three brothers, Alexei, Hunter and Foster, some other employees of Roebuck inc., some family friends and, of course, Sidney’s best friend, Jessie Thornton.” The camera settled on the sweet-faced young blonde, dressed in her Sunday best, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Sidney herself. Stood just behind her was a highly strung-looking woman who had her hands on the young girl’s shoulders.

“Jessie, I understand you’ve been supporting Sidney through her campaign?” The girl nodded a little curtly. “And you’ve come along today to wish her well?” 

“I guess...” Jessie replied with something close to a sneer. Looking a little flustered by this unexpectedly chilly response, the reporter stood up and turned to talk to Alexei Roebuck, Sidney’s oldest brother and, behind their father, highest ranking member of the Roebuck inc. board of directors.

“Woah!” Becky exclaimed, looking scandalised. “Why was she being so bitchy if she’s supposed to be her friend?” 

“Oh I heard about this!” Rob nodded, connecting the dots in his head and realising who the girl was. “She was Sidney’s best friend for sure and she really wanted to be slaughtered with her but she wasn’t allowed. She felt like Sidney got all the attention that she should have had some of and she got really bitter about it. In fact, when she was an old lady she made up a story about actually being Sidney and saying that the real Jessie had been killed in her place as part of some plot by the Roebucks after Sidney had a last minute change of heart.”

“Well that’s really dumb!” Becky frowned, pausing her stroking of her dad’s manhood for the moment. “Nobody believed her, did they?”

“Afraid so!” Rob sighed. “Cannibalism even got banned for a few months. It was a whole big scandal! Even when the laws were a way to getting fixed there was a campaign to change the name of the chain to Jessie’s out of respect. They were almost ready to do it too!”

“What happened?” Becky asked, her eyes wide. 

“Well, at the height of the scandal, old lady Jessie, or Mackenzie as she was going by by then, it’s kinda complicated,” he pre-empted his daughter’s next question, “anyway, she died of the flu or pneumonia or something and someone in the funeral home did a DNA test which proved she was a liar! She was just trying to get some of the glory she thought she should have had all along!”

“Wow what a bitch!” Becky let out a low whistle and resumed her pumping once more. “You know what? I’m glad she didn’t get cooked when she was young and tasty! I’m glad she had to get all old and wrinkly and gross! Serves her right!” Rob chuckled and shook his head in amusement. 

On the screen, Mike signed off from inside and handed back over to June.

“Thanks Mike!” the presenter smiled, “Looks like everyone in there is just as excited as we ae out here! Now, before Sidney arrives, let’s have a talk with some of the hundreds of supporters who have turned out to give her a good send-off!” The camera man followed her as she approached the barrier, steering well away from protestors and approaching a group of girls, all naked with meat-cuts marked on their bodies. In the front, leaning on the barrier, were five little girls all with Sidney hats and behind them were four young adults. It was to the adults that she first turned her mike. “Hi there!” She greeted them. “Perhaps you could tell us who you are and what brings you here today?”

“I’m Sarah,” the busty blonde, naked apart from the dotted lines marked on her body, flashed a dazzling smile at the camera, “and we’ve come down all the way from North Dakota to see Sidney today and wave her off!” The camera pulled back a little and showed the blonde with the three other girls who were clearly her friends. There was a stunningly beautiful black girl with an impressive chest to rival the blonde’s, an elegant Japanese girl and a cute redhead. In front of them were a blonde girl of around ten with a chest just starting to bud, a tall black girl of around thirteen, a girl of maybe seven or eight who appeared to be her sister, her hair in braids with beads on the end, and red-haired twins of eleven or twelve, their skin as pale as alabaster and their faces and developing chest sprinkled with light brown freckles. 

“Are they all meat-girls, Daddy?” Becky asked, her little hand still pumping hard, trying to give her beloved daddy the release he had given her. “They’re really pretty!”

“I don’t know!” Rob admitted. “They certainly look like it but I don’t know how soon it was after this that other girls started being harvested. Pretty soon I guess!” 

“At least they’re not shy about being naked!” the eight year old giggled. 

“May I ask how old you are?” The reporter asked before turning the microphone back to the tall blonde with her lightly-curled hair and honey-coloured skin. 

“Sure, I’m twenty one years old.” she smiled.

“You know the proposed legislation would only apply to girls up to the age of fourteen?” 

“Oh I know,” Sarah shrugged, “but what Sidney’s doing is such an awesome thing for the world and for girls everywhere! I’ve had the fantasy of being meat since I was ten years old but I never went out there and made it happen like she has! Okay,” she shrugged, “it might be too late for us but not for my gorgeous little cousin here, huh Shelly?” She put her hands on the cute little blonde’s shoulders and the younger girl grinned up at her. “We’ve all come down to support the little ones here and to show our thanks to Sidney for giving them the chance to live their dream!” 

“Well, thank you so much for talking to us!” The reporter grinned. “And I hope you enjoy the rest of the day. And as for you five,” she smiled indulgently down at the younger girls, “you all look delicious and I hope you all end up on a plate somewhere before too long!” The youngsters beamed proudly as the camera pulled back and scanned the crowd some more. 

“Oh!” the reporter called out and the camera swung around the face her again. She had her finger to hear ear, clearly listening to message that was being relayed through an ear-piece, “I’m being told that Sidney’s car is just around the corner and we should be seeing it any… yes! Here it comes now!” 

“Wow! That’s some car!” Becky explained, pumping faster as a metallic pink stretch limo drove into the plaza and pulled up in front of the hotel steps. A uniformed doorman came down and opened the back door and a tall, handsome, middle-aged man in a sharply tailored suit got out and waved to the crowd. 

“Orin Roebuck.” The reporter explained for anyone watching who might not already know. “CEO of Roebuck inc. and proud father of the girl of the hour!” The man took a few steps back to make room for the car’s other occupant, the girl everyone had turned out to see. To the rapturous cheers and applause of the crowd, Sidney Roebuck, her hair and makeup perfect, emerged from the car and stood on the steps, waving and blowing kisses at all her adoring fans. Her hands on her hips, she turned around to show off her whole body and the camera zoomed in. As the soon-to-be meat-girl showed off her firm, shapely rump, Rob breathed in sharply then gave a soft moan, Becky’s fast-moving hand achieving its goal.

“Mmm you like her, huh Daddy?” Becky giggled, looking down at the sticky mess on her hand then raising it to her mouth and licking it clean slowly, sensually, never breaking eye-contact with Rob for a second. “She certainly is pretty!” 

“I bet she tasted good!” Rob observed, breathing heavily and trying to compose himself once more.

“As tasty as me, you think?” Becky giggled, leaning in and kissing him.

“Nobody could be as tasty as my little piglet!” Rob stroked her leg and kissed her again.

“That’s the right answer!” teased the little girl, tapping him on the end of his nose. “Good Daddy!” She snuggled happily back into his arms as the reporter handed over to her colleague inside the hotel.

To be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you think she went straight from the television studio?” Becky asked, curiously, as Sidney chatted happily to the reporter in the lush lobby of the hotel, the smartly-uniformed workers standing at their stations but keeping a discrete distance as they knew was expected of them. A good hotel worker, a friend of Rob’s in the industry had once told him, should be invisible until they’re needed then appear instantly and melt back into the scenery when their task was complete. It didn’t sound like something he would be happy doing personally but he supposed it worked for some people, especially in up-market establishments like the Roebuck, frequented by Hollywood actors, giants of the music business an even, on occasion, foreign royalty where, it was said, an efficient and attentive worker could make as much in tips over one weekend as Rob made in two weeks at his technically better paid and respected job. 

“Looks like it!” Rob cuddled his naked young daughter who had now once more planted herself squarely in the middle of his lap but was a lot more relaxed and calm than she had been before he’d helped her scratch that very particular itch. “Busy day for her, eh?” Becky giggled and snuggled into his chest a little more. 

“It’s so weird to think she was the first in, like, forever!” the eight year old mused as Sidney and her guests were showing into the grand dining hall where her meat would be served in a few hours’ time. In the years to come, people who had been on duty there that day would talk about their experiences and several of the chefs involved in her preparation would give interviews, explaining how Sidney had hand-picked every dish her meat would feature in from the options they offered her, even tasting the sauces and gravies to pick her favourites.

The majority of dishes were variations on those traditionally made with pork since girl was understood to be a broadly similar meat and Sidney had been given the opportunity to sample many of these. On the day itself, however, none of the preparation or eating was shown on television, although some private photos mostly taken on phones by the chefs themselves and the diners, had emerged not long after. As evidenced by the small but vocal protests outside, 

“How would the butcher know how you, you know, butcher her?” she asked a little clumsily, “If he’d never been allowed to practice on any other girls and there was nobody to teach him?” 

“I guess it can’t be too different from butchering any other animal?” Rob speculated. “If you know how to process a pig or goat carcass you can probably do a girl just as well.” Becky seemed satisfied with this answer and the pair watched quietly for a few more minutes as the tour progressed from the dining room of the hotel to the kitchen where the preparation of Sidney’s meat would take place. The kitchen was a masterpiece of gleaming chrome and brushed steel with ovens, hobs, steamers and rack upon rack of knives and utensils. Sidney was chatting happily with her friends and family and giggling as, with the roving cameraman and reporter close by, the hotel’s head chef gave them the grand tour. 

“So who did get to eat her, then?” Becky asked, curiously. “I know they said it was a secret back then but we must know now, right? Or has everyone forgotten?” 

“Let’s see!” Rob picked up the TV remote and paused the broadcast pressed the “Frequently Asked Questions” button which, on most programs, would superimpose a transparent menu over the screen with quick links to answers that viewers might be pondering such as what else the actors had been in, whether the movie was based on a book, whether this drama was based on a true story. That sort of thing. Sure enough, fourth on the list between “Who cooked Sidney Roebuck?” and “How many Sidney’s restaurants are there in the world?” was the question “Who ate Sidney Roebuck?”

Rob pressed the “Select” button and a sort of grid appeared in the screen. Most squares had photographs in them but some had a genetic head and shoulders outline, presumably for those of whom no image any longer existed. Each box had a name underneath and could be selected for more information about the person in the picture.

Top, of course, were the Roebuck family – Orin, Alexei, Hunter, Foster and Alexei’s wife Miranda. Then there were a handful of political figures, long-since forgotten, and a number of famous twenty-first century actors and singers. Towards the bottom was popular author Evan Forrest who, under a pseudonym, had been inspire by Sidney’s campaign to write a number of stories imagining a world in which she was successful and in which eating girls became common-place and accepted. A world, in fact, much like the one Rob and his daughter now lived in. As the campaign had gained traction, Forrest’s stories had gradually seeped out from the obscure fetish sites where they had been posted and found their way into the mainstream, shared on social media sites and even printed in some magazines. 

It was these stories, Rob remembered hearing, that were considered largely responsible for helping the public to accept cannibalism as something sweet, exciting and something the “victim” could enjoy rather than being part of the horror genre that most people at the time would have assumed it to be. Following the announcement of Sidney’s success, Forrest had come forward and revealed his identity, eventually publishing the stories in an anthology entitled “Tales from the Sidneyverse” which had become a world-wide best-seller, translated into fifteen languages. It made perfect sense, Rob thought, that he would have been invited to the feast and given the opportunity to taste Sidney’s meat!

“Who’s that?” Becky pointed. “The guy in the hat, with the beard!” Rob scrolled over the picture in question, a man in his late thirties or early forties with a full, dark brown beard and dark glasses under a broad-brimmed hat which gave him an intriguingly enigmatic look. 

“Marc Metzger...” Rob read out. “Doesn’t ring any… oh yes!” Suddenly he realised who the man was. “He’s the artist who did all those beautiful drawings of meat-girls. I’m sure I’ve got his book somewhere… He even did one of Sidney, they sell prints of it in the gift shops. You know, the one where she’s standing back to back with herself?”

“Oh yeah!” Becky grinned happily. “He looks cool! I’m glad he hot to taste her. What about her?” she pointed to a young woman with light brown hair. “She’s really pretty!”

“Sofi Hündchen.” Rob read out loud. “Says she was a graphic artist and that she designed the Sidney’s logo and the first version of the mascot. A friend of Miranda Roebuck apparently.” 

“Oh nice!” Becky sounded genuinely pleased. “I’m happy there were cool people like artists and singers there, not just boring politicians and businessmen!” A few button-presses later, the program resumed.

To be Continued...


	6. Chapter 6

“We’re now in the room where Sidney will be slaughtered.” Mike the reporter spoke into the camera. “And while Sidney and her guests take a look around I’m going to speak to the man who will be carrying out the act, Flava Macello.” The camera pulled back to show a tall, broad-shouldered, olive-skinned man with a shiny bald head and bushy black moustache. With his striped apron, all he needed was a straw boater hat to look like the archetypal image of a butcher. Although his appearance and name suggested a Mediterranean background, when he spoke it was with a New York accent. 

“Mr Macello, thank you for talking to us.” He smiled at the butcher.

“Oh, please!” the bag man clapped the reporter heartily on the shoulder. “Call me Flav!”

“Flav.” Mike smiled. “You’ve been selected to be the one to carry out the legalised slaughter of Sidney Roebuck. Do you have a connection with the Roebuck family?” 

“I have supplied their chefs on several occasions.” the big man explained with a chuckle. “Lot of competition and underhand politics in New York so I figured I’d bring my expertise down this way where, after all, the finest cattle are raised.” He gave a proud smile. “My family have been butchers for five generations and it’s nice to know that my skills are appreciated.”

“Did you have a lot of competition?” the reporter asked. “I imagine this is quite a prestigious event to be a part of and several butchers would have wanted to be where you are today? It is a part of history, after all, and will have ramifications long into the future and for the culture of America and the whole western world for sure, if not, in time, the whole planet!”

“There were a few!” the butcher chuckled again and ran his hand over his bald scalp the way others might run their fingers through their hair. “But of course there were also many who found the idea horrific and wanted nothing to do with it...”

“A good point.” Mike nodded. “Many of us have got so caught up in the excitement of Sidney’s campaign and victory, and of course her own infectious enthusiasm, that it is strangely easy to forget that what we’re actually talking about here is the killing of a healthy young girl. Do you have any qualms about what you are going to do? Something which would, forty eight hours ago, have been considered pre-meditated murder?” 

“I did have to ask myself the question.” Flava nodded seriously, fiddling a little with his impressive moustache. “But in the end I came to the conclusion that, since it was what she so badly wanted, I was, in a sense, giving her a gift and if she was so set on being butchered then it should be by the best in the business!” He looked up and gave a broad grin, flashing his teeth, one of which was gold, and chuckling at his own comment.

“He’s cool!” Becky giggled, snuggling into her daddy’s shoulder. “He looks like a pirate!” 

“He does!” Rob agreed with a chuckle. “I hope this was good for his business!”

“It’s weird to think there were no girl-butchers back then...” Becky mused. “And why are they talking about murder? Murder is when you kill someone who doesn’t want it, right? How can it be murder if she wanted it so badly?”

“As you said yourself,” Rob chuckled softly and kissed her on the cheek, “people in the past were weird!” 

“They really were!” Becky gave a resigned sigh. “Imagine having all those tasty girls running around and never even thinking about eating any of them? I mean, how could they not realise how good girl-meat is?” 

“I guess we should just be grateful we live in more enlightened times!” laughed Rob, cuddling his naked little daughter with his arms around her warm belly. “But don’t be too hard on them. In three hundred years there’s sure to be things people look back on from our time and think were weird or stupid or just plain wrong!”

“Kinda like how cars and stuff used to run on dirty fuel that messed up the atmosphere but people still did it and thought it was fine?” Becky asked, “That sort of thing?”

“Yes exactly!” he kissed her again. “There’s always stuff people who come after us will know better about than us and wonder why we ever thought it was okay.”

“Well I don’t care!” Becky declared confidently. “I’ll have been eaten by then so it won’t bother me what they say!”

“Good point!” Rob chuckled again. “You’re one smart cookie for sure!”

“Smart piggy, thank you!” The little girl corrected him with a put-on sharpness. 

“Sorry, smart piggy!” Rob gave her another kiss. “Can we watch the rest of the program now? It’s kinda interesting!” Becky gave a confirmatory grunt and nestled back into his arms as the interview continued.

“...much like a young goat.” the butcher was concluding, presumable having been asked about the logistics of processing Sidney’s carcass. 

“And what about the slaughter itself?” asked Mike. “I assume you’ll be doing it by hand and not using an electric stunner like they do in abattoirs? Will she be anaesthetised first?” 

“No, any medication in her system could effect her meat and those eating it.” the butcher shook his head, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “I will give her a little alcohol to relax her, some vodka in cola, then it will be much like a typical Kosher slaughter. One deep cut across her throat.” He mimed this action with his finger. “Done right and with a sharp enough blade, the pain and distress is minimal. It is not entirely painless of course but neither is it torture and it will be over quickly. I will collect her blood,” he continued, “as I understand some of the chefs want to work with it.” 

“Sidney has requested that her oldest brother Alexei be present to witness her slaughter,” Mike explained, “along with her father and her friend Jessie. The Roebuck’s attorney will also be present as well Mr Roebuck’s head of Public Relations who has managed Sidney’s campaign from the start. Jessie will be accompanied by her mother although, as vegetarians, they will not be staying for the meal.” 

Behind him, though the door, bright flashes were visible as press photographers took pictures of Sidney sitting on the block where she would be slaughtered, shaking hands with Flava Macello and being shown the tools he would be using to butcher her in a few minutes time.

“What’s a vegetarian?” Becky asked curiously, tilting her head to look up at Rob. “Was it some sort of olden-days religion?” 

“Almost, I guess!” her dad chuckled. “It means someone who doesn’t eat meat.”

“Huh?” Becky frowned. “Why?” 

“Some people think it’s wrong to kill for food when there’s lots of fruit and vegetables and other things you can eat without having to kill another living being.”

“Well, animals, yeah I get that.” Becky conceded, “But people who don’t eat animals can still eat girl, right? I mean, okay, animals can’t tell you if they want to be eaten and probably don’t anyway because they don’t understand about stuff like that but if a girl says she wants to be eaten, what’s the problem?”

“Well you have to remember,” Rob reminded her, “Sidney was the first girl to be harvested for her meat so people didn’t really see it as a different thing back then. If Jessie and her mum didn’t eat animal meat, they wouldn’t have wanted to eat girl-meat either.”

“Oh so she was a bitch AND stupid!” Becky crossed her arms huffily. “Pft!” 

“Now come on!” Rob chided gently. “This was a new thing for everyone. A big change for the whole world! Imagine if tomorrow you woke up and everyone had the ability to fly but you had to get used to it and kept falling while you learned, would you think it was fair for your great-grandchildren who were born able to fly and had been doing it since they were tiny said you were stupid for not being able to do it right away?”

“No, I guess not...” Becky conceded, more than a little sulkily. “She’s still a bitch ‘though!” she added under her breath. Rob head but decided not to comment, contenting himself with a wry smile. Mike was showing the viewers at home around the slaughter room now with its shower stall in the corner and chains hung from the ceiling, complete with rather vicious-looking meat-hooks, all brand new and gleaming. Flashes from at least three different press photographers reflected from the metal surfaces all around as Sidney was shown hugging her guests and exchanging final hugs and kisses with her family. 

“And now,” Mike spoke into the camera, “just before we leave the room, I would like to ask Sidney if she has any final words for the world on this, the most historic day in any of our lifetimes.” 

“No pressure then!” Becky giggled as the camera zoomed in on Sidney, sitting on the butcher’s slab and smiling as confidently as ever.

“My only sadness today,” she spoke in to the camera in a slightly too deliberate way, reminding Becky of when the Queen gave her speech at Christmas, trying to sound like she was speaking from the heart but clearly reading from a well-rehearsed script, “is that I won’t be around to see the new world what we do here today will bring into being. I hope it will be a happy place where hunger and poverty really can become a thing of the past. I hope that many more girls will follow in my footsteps. I know I am not the only one out there who feels the powerful calling to be food but, perhaps, I was the only one in a position to do something about it. So to all of you meat-girls out there, this is my gift to you! Stay happy,” she smiled, “stay safe and, above all,” she added with a cheeky grin, “stay tasty!” She blew a kiss at the camera.

“Thank you, Sidney.” The camera pulled back to include Mike in the shot once more. “I wish you every happiness and fulfilment in your final minutes and whatever awaits you beyond. Now back to June outside the hotel.” 

“Thanks Mike!” June smiled into the camera after only the briefest of awkward pauses typical in such live broadcasts. “As you know, Sidney has asked for privacy in her final moments with only her very few invited guests. The rest will be leaving the room now along with Mike and the rest of the press agents who were very graciously allowed to follow her up until this point. Oh!” She looked over at the front doors of the hotel. “I see Hunter Roebuck and some of the rest of the party are coming out greet the well-wishers in the square, I wonder if he’d be prepared to say a few words to us? Mr Roebuck?” she called out, “Would you mind sharing a few of your thoughts with the viewers at home?”

“Of course not!” The slightly-too-handsome handsome young man came over to join her. He was tall and tanned and, like Sidney, his hair was blonde although the gel which held it in place gave it a darker hue. He flashed a dazzling Hollywood smile at the camera. “And please,” he grinned charmingly at Joan, “Mr Roebuck is my father, Call me Hunter.” 

“Thank you, Hunter!” Joan smiled a little awkwardly, clearly a little dazzled by Sidney’s middle brother.

“Ooooh!” Becky giggled, teasing the reporter across thousands of miles and three centuries, “You loooove him!” She threw her head back and cackled as Hunter told Joan and her viewers how proud he was of his little sister and how much he supported her campaign.

“Like you love Mr Hendricks, huh?” Rob teased, poking hear in the ribs. Mr Hendricks was Becky’s teacher, only twenty three years old and handsome in a boyish sort of way – the kind of handsomeness that attracts little girls, and the occasional boy, like bees to nectar. Becky was far from the only pupil in her class with a crush on the young man but still, it was fun to tease her. Was that not a dad’s job, after all? Becky gave no answer other than to turn around and stick her tongue out defiantly. Rob made a grab for it with his finger and thumb but she drew it back in too quickly, giggling at his defeat. “Dagnabbit!” Rob punched the air in mock-frustration. “One day I’ll get it! One day!” He shook his fist melodramatically like a cartoon villain, making his eight year old daughter giggle even more. 

“Can you tell us what will be going on right now inside?” Joan asked, pointing her hand-held microphone towards Hunter. 

“Sure thing!” he flashed his perfect smile again. Becky was sure the confident-looking reporter was blushing under her makeup. “Well Sidney will of course be taking off her boots and hat. Our dad is going to keep those for now and we plan to auction them for charity in due course. She’ll be given something to drink to help relax and numb her somewhat, then she’ll take a shower to freshen up and get rid of her makeup and suchlike. Then, we I believe our friend Flav has already explained what will happen after that.”

“Yes he has.” Joan confirmed. “Now obviously but the end of today there will be very little of Sidney’s body left but are you planning any form of funeral or memorial for her?”

“We’ll have a private, family memorial service at home in a few days time.” Hunter nodded. “Just us, a few of her close friends and any employees who knew her personally. It will be our goodbye to the Sidney we knew, the girl behind the Stetson.” He gave a little chuckle but there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes. “Our dad has purchased a plot of land down-town,” he continued, “and plans to open a memorial park in Sidney’s name. Anything left of her body will be cremated and we will scatter the ashes there as part of the opening.”

“That sound like a lovely idea!” Joan smiled. “Thank you for talking to us.”

“It’s been a pleasure!” Hunter clapper her on the shoulder and shook her hand.

“I wonder if he went into politics?” Rob speculated out loud. “He’s got the schmoozing bit down perfectly!”

“I bet Joan would like him to schmooze her!” Becky giggled. Rob sighed.

“It means...No, you know what? Don’t worry about it!” he chuckled. Joan was talking to more of the well-wishers now, still carefully avoiding the protestors. Suddenly she broke off her conversation and put a finger to her ear, listening carefully to her ear-piece. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, here and at home,” she looked into the camera once more, “I’m getting word that deed has been done. Sidney Roebuck has officially become the first person in US history to be legally slaughtered for meat.”

A huge cheer erupted from the crowds as they heard this news. As the camera panned over the jubilant well-wishers, the scene reminded Rob a little of New Year’s Eve with lots of people hugging and kissing each other in celebration, some even letting off party-poppers, throwing streamers or blowing on party-blowers with their piercing, shrieking whistles. It was clear the extent to which Sidney and her campaign had captured their imaginations and hearts!

“Wow!” Becky giggled. “Imagine if they did a big announcement on the news every time any girl got butchered? There’d be no time for anything else!”

“True!” Rob chuckled.

“Seriously like NOTHING else!” the little girl laughed, finding the thought incredibly amusing. “No sports, no movies, no game shows or cartoons, NOTHING! Just rolling news on every channel reading out a list of names non-stop forever!” 

“Don’t forget Sidney was the first.” Rob reminded his daughter. “And the first person to do something is always more newsworthy. Like,” he fished for an example, “do you remember of the name of the first person to walk on Mars?”

“Sure!” Becky replied almost immediately. “Dr. Jane Masters!” 

“Exactly!” her dad nodded. “But I heard on the news the other day there have now been seventy four people to walk on Mars. Can you name the most recent?”

“Umm...” Becky floundered. 

“Okay, the third then?” pushed Rob.

“Okay, okay!” Becky laughed. “I get it! Sidney was a big deal because she was the first. It’s just really weird to think of a world when they already had cars and TVs and computers and stuff but didn’t eat girls! It just seems so… backwards!”

“I know!” Rob chuckled, cuddling her lovingly. “I remember thinking the same when I found out!”

“Mike, can you tell us what’s going on inside now?” 

“Yes, certainly Joan.” the reporter inside replied as the footage cut back to him. He was standing outside the slaughter room, the door of which was firmly shut, along with the guests who had either not stayed in the room or gone out to greet the public as Hunter had done and the newspaper photographers waiting eagerly for their chance to get a shot of the meat. “We’ve had confirmation that Sidney’s slaughter has taken place. Mr. Macello is now draining and parting the carcass. Once he is finished we will be able to go back in and take a look at the processed meat.

“How long are we expecting that to take, Mike?” Joan asked in voice-over. 

“Not long apparently.” answered Mike. “Of course this has never legally been done before but apparently the butcher is pretty confident of having the processing complete within twenty minutes.”

“So is that park still there?” Becky asked curiously as the two presenters between them waffled to fill the time until the door behind Mike would open. The main picture cut back to outside where Joan chatted some more with members of the crowd and even returned to Sarah and her friends to find out their reactions and how they were feeling now that the slaughter had actually been carried out. All the while, however, the feed from the camera pointed at Mike and the door to the slaughter room behind him remained on screen, squashed into the top left-hand corner so that there could be no chance of missing the big moment. 

“Yes, I went there on holiday when I was about fifteen, with Nanna and Gramps.” Rob smiled. “We were actually on our way to California but had a stop-off in Dallas for one night so we visited it.”

“What was it like?” asked Becky, intrigued. 

“A nice big park, really.” Rob shrugged. “Flowerbeds, well-kept trees, a nice playground with swings and a fort and a sandpit. Oh and an awesome fountain with a big statue of Sidney in the middle, posed like she was dancing and blowing water out of her mouth! Oh but I’ll tell you what made the visit really awesome...” his eyes went a little misty as he recalled the happy memory. 

“What was that, Daddy?” Becky looked up at him.

“Well, it was the middle of August,” Rob explained, “Sidney’s birthday! Although we hadn’t realised that when we decided to go. Anyway, it turns out they have a big competition there, in the park, to celebrate Sidney’s birthday every year, like a pageant!”

“One of those talent contests?” asked Becky, “Where the girls dance and stuff?”

“Yes exactly!” continued Rob, “And the last round they all dressed like Sidney, in the boots and the hat.”

“Bet you hated that, Daddy!” Becky giggled teasingly. “Let me guess? The winner got roasted?”

“The winner and the two runners-up!” Rob grinned. “It was an unexpected treat for sure!”

“Can we go, Daddy?” The little girl turned around in his lap and put her arms around his neck, looking deep into his eyes. “This Summer! For our holiday? It’s only, like, three hours by ultrasonic flight, right?”

“It’s certainly something to think about!” Rob kissed her lightly on the lips. 

“Sorry to cut you off, Joan!” Mike’s voice cut into Rob and Becky’s attention once more and the naked eight year old turned around to face the screen again. “It seems that the butchering is complete and we can go back in!” 

The door to the slaughter room was open and the observers were coming out, all looking a little shaken but with media-friendly smiles still firmly in place. All except of Jessie and her mother who left quickly, the lawyer’s arm around the rattled-looking woman’s shoulders and the PR officer with one hand in the middle of Jessie’s back and the other held out ahead to clear their path. The young girl had her head down and her face covered by her hands.

“Bless her heart.” The rich, confident voice of Orin Roebuck was heard, drawing both the camera and the attention of the viewer away from the distressed mother and daughter who were being swiftly ushered out though a back door so they would not have to face the waiting public and press out front. “So supportive of my girl,” he assured the viewers, “but I think seeing the actual butchering itself was a bit much for her.”

“And how was it for you?” Mike asked. “Can’t have been an easy thing to watch?”

“You know what?” Orin smiled, “I felt nothing but pride that my amazing little girl was finally getting her wish. Flava is a skilled professional and he made sure everything was quick and clean. One minute, Sidney was kneeling on the table and the blink of an eye later, an extremely appetising display of fresh meat was being laid out. Please!” He gestured expansively toward to the door of the small room, the doorway now occupied by the ample form of the butcher. “Go take a look! The man is an artist!”

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Flava the butcher stood aside and gestured expansively as the television camera followed Mike into the slaughter-room. Almost immediately there were flashes from half a dozen press cameras as every photographer vied to get the best picture for their publication.

“And here,” Mike turned and spoke into the camera, “we have the remains of Sidney Roebuck, all ready to be allocated out to the fifteen chefs that Sidney selected personally to cook her meat. What amazes me,” the reporter gave a personal observation as the camera panned over the butcher’s slab which now far closer resembled the counter of a butcher’s shop with assorted cuts of pink-ish meat, much of which still had skin at the edge, “is just how much like any other meat this looks. Even ‘though I know this was a twelve year old girl a matter of minutes ago, I could see this display in a butcher’s shop window and not think anything of it.”

It was true. With the exception of one or two very obvious cuts, what was laid out on display could have come from any number of animals and, certainly, mixed in with cuts of pork it would be near impossible to tell the difference.

“It’s so weird how nobody had ever seen girl-meat before!” Becky shook her head. “I guess they must have have more farms and stuff back then? Were there loads of pigs and cows about? Like, in every park and field and stuff?”

“Well not quite.” Rob frowned a little, not really having much more of a conception than his daughter of such a world and wondering just how old she thought he was, since she seemed to be assuming his intimate knowledge of the early twenty first century, nearly three centuries before his birth! “But there were a lot more animal farms, yes. And animal meat was cheaper.”

“Is it true they made horror movies about people who eat other people?” Becky giggled.

“Yes, some classics in fact!” chuckled Rob as the butcher on the screen talked the presenter through the various different cuts of girl-meat and discussed which equivalent cuts of pork or beef, which the viewers of the time were better acquainted with, that they could best be compared to. “There was one I saw about this family who killed and ate strangers who passed through their area and one of them wore a mask made from the skin of their victims.”

“Little girls?” Becky asked, puzzled. “Like, school parties and stuff?”

“No, groups of older teens mostly, and not just girls.”

“Ewww!” Becky screwed up her face. “They ate boys too? Not wonder it was a horror movie! Boys taste really gross! Everybody knows that!” 

“Ha!” Rob laughed. “I’m pretty sure they are older adults too!” Becky mimed puking and shook her head in bewilderment. The show on the TV seemed to be coming to an end now, with Mike thanking Orin Roebuck and his entourage inside while Joan gushed some more over handsome Hunter Roebuck.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen,” Joan spoke into the camera, “is the end of our live broadcast today as we leave the chefs to prepare this very special meal and the guests to enjoy it. Tomorrow and for the rest of the week we hope to bring you interviews with some of those chefs, with the very lucky diners who will be getting to taste Sidney’s meat and with some of the girls who hope to follow in her footsteps. But for now, I’m Joan Wachowski for NBC news. Have a great afternoon!”

“If you enjoyed that,” the continuity announcer spoke as a picture of a girl who looked very like Sidney and was dressed in her trademark style filled the screen, “then don’t miss the twenty ninety three classic ‘My Name is Sidney’ starring Amber Crawford as Sidney Roebuck. That’s ‘My Name is Sidney’ tonight at seven on SEN-Junior.” 

“Ooh can we watch that, Daddy?” Becky turned excitedly. “It looks really cool!”

“It does rather, doesn’t it?” Rob smiled, pointing the remote at the TV to turn it off. “But I think that’s enough television for now. It’s a nice day, we should go out and do something.”

“Aww but that means I have to put clothes on!” Becky pouted then giggled.

“Hmm probably a good idea!” Rob hugged his naked little daughter, kissing the top of her head. “Tell you what, how about we go to that outdoor pool where everyone swims naked, then you don’t have to keep them on for very long!”

“You just want to look at the mums and teenagers!” Becky teased, sticking out her tongue. 

“Like you don’t like getting an eyeful of the dads, huh?” Rob retorted, tickling the little girl until she shrieked and kicked. “Oh well,” he chuckled, letting her get her breath back, “I guess there’s something for everyone there! I’m sure the lifeguard was checking you out last time!”

“Hmm...” Becky tapped her lips thoughtfully, “You think he wanted to fuck me or eat me?” 

“Why not both?” laughed Rob, kissing her again. 

“How about we go for a swim to work up an appetite then I’ll take you somewhere really nice to eat for a treat, then home in time for the movie? What do you think?”

“Sounds lovely!” Becky gave a contented sigh and leaned back with her head on her dad’s shoulder, his hands clasped together on her warm, bare tummy. “But where are we going to eat?”

“Where do you think?” Rob asked, his eyes twinkling cheekily. “Sidney’s, of course! Where else?” 

The End


End file.
